Before night is through
by cyndrarae
Summary: A disgruntled fan's version of X3 that's completely Scott centric lol. AU obviously written before movie was out but after promos aired. Contains both slash and het.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Before night is through**

**Disclaimer: **This is fan fiction, which by definition means its just an amateur work by a fan for other fans of the X-Men franchise. Absolutely not for profit and I don't take credit for the any of the characters of X-Men. They're all owned by Marvel and 20th century Fox etc.

**Summary**: My own take on what happens post X2. I got inspired by this lovely Scott/Logan manip made by xenasoul (thanks much darling!) and then the story got away from me, just… took off on its own. I am not to blame for this, much I swear. Pairings used - Scott with several others.

**Warnings**: Slash and Het. More Het than Slash

**Rating**: mild R

**Author Notes**: Guess I'm just venting since there will hardly be any Cyclops in X3. So this is MY X3:P Started writing this after the spoilers for the movie came out so yeah they're the source of inspiration for this story. But obviously this is not going to be consistent with the movieverse or comic canon either. So… AU I guess. Most of it is Scott POV. Pardon my mistakes, but do point them out to me so I can fix them.

Six weeks. Forty two days and forty two nights and he just about managed to hold it all together. Just.

The tears never came again, not since… the nightmares never went away. Scott Summers decided he should just stop sleeping, and that plan could only work so long. Every waking moment a throbbing testament to the hollowness inside. Phantom strains of a bond that once was… pushing and pulling all at once, isolating him from everyone and everything not inside his own messed up head. The deafening silence taunted him. Tortured him until he found himself trying to drown it with imagined sounds and voices. Least that's what the Professor thought.

_But… I can still hear her._

_Give it time Scott. _

Time he gave. Forty two days and forty two nights. And the voices just got louder. And louder.

He tried the old fashioned way to help him forget. Slipped out one night alone, went to town and got blind drunk. Not that it worked.

Logan found him face down by the mansion's lake at dawn. Swore vehemently, thanked the weather gods the lake was frozen over… then coaxed and cajoled an incapacitated field leader back inside. Least he tried.

At third stumble by the stairs, he gave up talking (or semblance of it) and Scott found himself enveloped in the arms of a person he did not like very much. Least not to his knowledge.

"Nem… Nem…"

"What is it Cyke?"

He tried again. "N-Nemesis. Arch! Nemesis."

Logan walked on quietly as he carried the younger mutant to his bedroom.

"Not there… cant… cant sleep there."

Logan had stayed since… after… you know. He'd stayed and watched, and helped where he could. He tried to fill the void that Jean left behind with her students. Tried to assume the responsibilities Scott neglected in his grief that refused to lessen… and rapidly morphed instead to… insanity. He knew Scott hadn't been sleeping in the bed he once shared with Jean. He also knew Scott was keeping the room as a fucking mausoleum for his dead lover.

It wasn't painful just for the kid to be in. Logan turned about.

"You're right. Not there…"

Scott squinted at the bigger man through his quartz glasses.

"Yours then?"

Logan halted, lowering his head to look suspiciously at the shy mischief playing on the drunk man's beautiful but gaunt face.

Logan sprawled the boy out on his bed and made to stand back, fully expecting Scott to doze off the moment his hair touched the pillow. He was wrong.

Scott sat back up, gripped the front of Logan's jeans and pulled him close… his fingers dallying with the zipper before slowly pulling it down. At Scott's softened and for once smiling features, Logan sighed.

"You're drunk."

"I'm in need… please Logan…"

Logan stared… shook his head, and reached to switch off the light.

Some time after noon, Scott woke up with an even greater pounding in his temples than usual. Took off his glasses with one hand and rubbed his sleep-filled eyes with the heel of another. That's when he realised there was someone else in the room. Quickly he put back his glasses and turned to the man seated on a sofa chair by the bed. He frowned, with part suspicion and part goddamn irritation.

"What are you doing in my room?"

"…"

"…"

Scott looked around. "This… is not my room?"

And memories of a dark unexpected… unintended dawn returned… with it intense, horrifying… gut-wrenching remorse.

"Cyke… wait."

Scott kept running. He'd been running ever since the day before, every time he saw him… every time they crossed paths… he turned the other way and just… ran.

Logan finally caught up with him after dinner in the garage. On his bike where he'd sit, facing a blank wall… like a tired old man resigned to a life he didn't want anymore.

"You cant keep avoiding me."

Scott started, though not enough.

"Try me."

And he got up to move back inside. Adamantium claws snikt'd out, buried in the opposite wall effectively blocking the way. Scott found himself chest to broader chest with nowhere to go but back. He turned, wrong move.

Logan grabbed his arm and spun him around, held him close so his low growls were breathed right into the boy's left ear. Scott shivered, words reluctant to tumble through his trembling lips.

"H-How dare you…"

Logan just hugged him harder.

"Shh…"

"I'm still in mourning…"

It didn't matter to the older man but Scott was angry, so fucking pissed off. How could it be so easy for this bastard to just…? Just… move on! He had professed to love Jean too had he not? How could he just…

_How could I? Damnit how could I?_

_Scott! My Love._

The voices in his head grew stronger. His eyes went wide as the glow from his glasses doubled… she could sense his betrayal! She was calling to him. Scott struggled harder.

"Cyke please… let her go."

He broke free and stepped back fast as he could.

"Never." He hissed.

_Don't leave me behind Scott._

The bike was full and ready to go. He didn't stop to think. Didn't stop to see the hurt and worry in Logan's eyes. Didn't stop at Xavier's imploring in his mind that he promptly shut off. He just had to get away.

_Run!_… hard as he could… before they stopped him… he ran, and he kept on running and didn't stop.

Not till she told him to.

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	2. Chapter 2

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Four days. And four nights he sat by the lake that took her away. He had been sure… so sure… of that voice inside his head. Focus Scott _focus_.

How could a love he devoted his entire adult life to… be nothing but a flight of fantasy? A figment of his imagination?

He knew in his gut something was coming… someone… was approaching from beyond what his imprisoned eyes could see. And he knew he would wait till kingdom cometh… because she told him to.

Was he losing his mind? Ho. Lets not go there.

He'd tried reason. _Be reasonable_, he told himself.

But what good is logic and reason that submits to the weakness of mortality but refuses to acknowledge the strength of love? If mortality is to body, is not love to the soul? And is the soul not by its very definition eternal… immortal?

How does one just… stop being one whole person and start being a whole another? As if it was never that important or worth holding on to in the first place? As if love was just a perishable commodity… pack of dishwasher tablets you replaced as and when you ran out or felt like trying a new fucking fragrance? Why is love no longer sacred to anyone but him anymore? Whoever invented the concept of 'moving on' must just… suck.

Thoughts chased thoughts in circles. There was once a time Jean would answer back, engaging him in constructive discussions from hundreds of miles away… heck she was the only one he could ever really talk to. But now she was silent.

She'd been silent for so long he'd forgotten he could still talk.

_Cyke please… let her go._

Scott shook his head with a jolt. Now he was hearing Wolverine in his head too. How could he let go? How could he, when she wouldn't?

Scott knew the voices in his head couldn't be unreal. He couldn't be _that _crazy. Not yet.

_The soul is eternal_, he'd told Xavier when he tried to convince him to return home. _I will wait for her here_, he had said. And he sensed Xavier shake his astral head in despair… maybe even disappointment. Once, he would've cared about that… but that was a lifetime ago. Love is selfish that way.

The SUV stopped right next to where he'd camped on the rocky lake shore. Dark coulds brewed in the sky above… the wind was freezing as it blew his unkempt hair into his face but he didn't care.

"Summers."

Suddenly he cared, tidying his hair to turn and face his… face Logan.

"You've made your point. Come on lets go."

Scott scoffed, looked away.

_He thought I came here to get away from him? Arrogant sonofabitch. _

"She's dead Cyke."

"No…"

"Don't… don't let her sacrifice go to waste."

"…"

"Cyke…"

"NO!"

He stood up and faced off, glad to finally have his natural state of annoyance and anger toward the other mutant back.

"You don't believe me that's fine just leave me alone! This has nothing to do with you."

Only the wind dared to breathe in the next few moments. Then Wolverine ventured gently.

"You sure about that?"

Scott didn't reply, didn't get a chance to.

Wind fell and with it a calm descended over and around. Time stopped and still both mutants waited… knowing somehow in their guts this was a moment they would remember (or regret) for the rest of their natural lives. The screaming in his head… it grew louder and louder till Scott clapped desperate hands over his ears and fell to his knees. Logan smelt her, stood facing the lake front, defensively covering Scott. And then she rose.

She stepped out of the lake, shrouded in millions of tiny flames… trail of steam and boiling(?) water in her wake. Her eyes flashed but not with love or any emotion the men would usually associate with the woman they once knew. Logan saw unbearable pain… a terrible loathing… and a grotesque lust for revenge.

All Scott saw was Jean.

She was looming and majestic… and terrifying as never before, but by _God _gorgeous as always. Dressed from toe to chin in deep wine red leather, a cape encasing her square shoulders. Her hair fell to her knees, a darker shade of red than the men remembered it. Drops of freezing water that clung to her form seemed to rapidly vaporise by sheer contact with the… the entity. Indeed the closer she came, the hotter it got.

_Jean!_

"No Scott! Wait."

But Scott was on his feet already. Logan tried pushing him behind himself as 'Jean' glided nearer… closer to the two men in her once-life. The woman smiled.

_How touching._

That voice inside his head! Logan now knew what Scott had been ranting about for six weeks.

_Scott my love… wont you come to me?_

"Scott don't. Something's not…"

The younger mutant wasn't listening. His head was filled once again, his broken heart overwhelmed. All he could see, all he could hear… all he could feel… was redemption. Relief that it was over at last. She was back. She was alive.

_You're alive!_

That smile… Logan growled, his claws sliding out noisily. Scott was between him and his Jean in a flash.

"What are you doing? Are you fucking crazy?"

"Scott get back, she… NO!"

The entity meanwhile ghosted and reappeared right behind Scott, suddenly wrapping an arm around his stubbled throat. Doubt and shock and Logan's fear stricken face… and the sensation of something scorching hot strangling him… were the last thoughts Scott would remember from that day at the lake.

_But you're alive!_

Then everything went crimson hot, then ashen… and finally faded to black.

He'd woken up to blurry images of vague silhouettes bent over him, studying him intently. There were not many but so many… something blue, something blonde. Focus Scott _focus_. He thought he saw his Jean, all that red hair… and Magneto? No… couldn't be. Where was Professor? Ro? L..Logan?

Everything was dark and light at once. He tried to speak and ended up hyperventilating instead. The silhouettes didn't move. Nor could he. His head swam and sounds reached his water-clogged ears as if from a great distance. Focus. _Focus_.

…_only weakness…_

…_come for him…_

…_sedated…_

…_war may never be over… _

He couldn't focus anymore. He told himself it didn't matter… Jean was there. He could always rest easy knowing Jean would take care of everything. Then why was he so bothered… so… fearful?

Exhausted to his bones, Scott finally let the darkness take him. But not before also vaguely musing why his vision wasn't so red that night.

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	3. Chapter 3

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It was a hole. A square hole. Not so square as rectangular. And not so much a deep hole as a… squat depression in the cobbled stone floor. Deep enough like… when he was forced to his knees on the cold marble beneath, the water barely reached his navel… shallow then? And they had the nerve to call it a bath tub.

Scott sat, naked, his knees pulled up against his chest, arms wound around them tight. Stared straight ahead… through the windows in the ceiling thirty feet high. Was difficult to say if it was day or night. It was always dark inside the castle, except only for the candles… non-scented… hundreds of them flickering incessantly in every nook and corner. And the windows always closed, always stained so nature could never sneak in.

How many days and how many nights? Weeks? Months? Scott couldn't tell anymore.

Like he was in a coma all over again, only conscious and aware… and under absolute control of a powerful telepath. Jean.

_No!_

Not his Jean. His Jean would never do this to him.

The psyionic inhibitors planted by… _the imposter_… in his mind kept him calm… sedate… unable to resist. He felt too drained to do anything.

He couldn't.

He couldn't walk from A to B unless someone told him to do so. There was no will, no energy… no inclination toward anything except what he was ordered to do. That, and to stare off into space.

Yes, calm, sedated. And screaming inside.

A hand softly stirred the lukewarm water around him. His clear blue gaze dropped leisurely to study the ripples, ears automatically trained toward the new sound so born into his world. The hand drew nearer and nearer until it grazed his thigh. He wanted to jump, pull away only… what was the point?

At least this time it was a hand he was familiar with. Idly he followed it with his eyes as it slowly caressed its way up his arm. Gently cupping water and letting it dribble over his shivering skin.

_Cold? _

He shook his head, slowly. What was the point? A washcloth appeared in another beautifully manicured hand. One held his shoulder and pushed. He didn't protest as he was leaned back against the cold marble, his head falling back on a strategically placed cushion. As if they knew he was prone to doing that often… as if they knew him. But they didn't.

His collar clanked softly against the floor at the back of his neck – a metallic strain of rose quartz and conflict diamonds specially designed to keep his powers reined in. He wondered what they'd done with his glasses, not like he'd ever need them in here. Silken blonde hair flashed in the corner of his eyes as the silhouette in white gracefully rose then stepped into the hole next to him. He didn't fight when hands came back to pull clenched fists from around his knees. Didn't fight when legs were drawn apart and spread into the cooling water. He couldn't recall if he flinched when hands started to touch him there. Couldn't remember if they ever stopped. He just stared out the stained glass on the ceiling… wondering if it was day or night. Every inch of his body stroked and fondled and washed and kissed. They had taken away his life, his powers, his mind… his soul they held captive inside this dark fortress. What good was this body anyway? Take it. Take whatever you want, just…

Though she held most of his psyche captive, something inside was still free… and keenly aware of everything that happened around him. Something inside him struggled, screamed, wept… but mostly it worried what they had done to his Jean.

He thought she was coming back to him… she'd called him to Alkali Lake and then… then what? He couldn't believe he'd been tricked so easily… shapeshifter?

Mystique?

But to what purpose? What did Magneto want from him? And where the hell was Jean? They must have her if they managed to clone her so perfectly even Scott got fooled right. Right? Damn he couldn't think. His head hurt if he tried.

He closed his eyes exhausted, as water was slowly trickled down his forehead into his hair. Soft auburn locks were smoothened back, tugged behind his ear and he sighed in resignation because at least that he was allowed. And because he knew what was to come next.

Soft lips lowered on his, a warm tongue softly and persistently licking them wet. And then there was teeth, worrying at his lower lip... tongue gently forcing his mouth open to continue the assault when…

Blue eyes shot open and met bluer ones. There… there was that warning tug again. The other felt it too because immediately she pulled away and turned towards the intruder. Scott tilted his head forward enough to confirm what he already knew.

She was back. The _imposter _was back.

Hands on her hips, a familiar cold fury gracing her smirking face as she glared daggers into the couple.

_Didn't I tell you not to play with my toys without permission?_

The blonde swallowed, hard, and slowly rose out of the hole. Scott didn't move. What was the point?

Jean… no, the _imposter_… Phoenix she called herself… calmly strode up to his side and holding his chin in a death grip forced him to look at her. That face… so painful to watch… he winced his eyes shut.

_Aww baby. You break my heart. Wont you say hi to your only love?_

He opened his eyes and glared as best as he could.

_You're not Jean._

She stared at him an eternity… eyes burning with a brand of lust he didn't understand, a form of rage he relished. Bet she was surprised at how he'd managed even this bit of impassioned outburst despite the inhibitors. Suddenly, hungrily she took his mouth into hers finishing the job his caretaker started. He struggled for a few seconds before the inhibitors kicked in, crushing the not so tiny streak of rebellion with an excruciatingly painful jolt to his nervous system. His body went limp and she let go then, smiling just as cruelly.

_And you're not Cyclops. Not anymore. _

No. Probably not. Yes he'd given up. What was the point?

He panted. Mutely observed as the _imposter_ disrobed and took his caretaker's place in the hole. She dipped two fingers into the water and it heated up immediately… almost searing hot but he didn't fight. The woman in white now dripping wet, crouched on the floor beside, pushing the bath oils and fucking conditioners closer to where the _imposter _could reach them. And when she caught his eye, she stared… right into his eyes… as if trying to tell him something… something important but he didn't bother. Why should he?

What was the point?

They never came for him.

Probably didn't need him anymore. He… he must have moved on. Just as he did after Jean. And Ro always was the ambitious one wasn't she? Must have made field leader now. Logan was such a horny pig, he'd seen him flirting with Storm too off and on. Guess they all got what they wanted, now that Scott was out of the way.

The tears never came, inhibitors wont let them. Scott wondered if he could will his heart to stop but obviously the damn things wouldn't allow that either.

Gradually he figured a way to count the days and the nights. It seemed he slept pretty much all the time. But assuming his caretaker woke him up to take those damn pills at least once a day gave him mornings. And assuming the visit to the hole just before she put him to bed gave him nights. Counting the mornings and the nights, he figured the _imposter _tended to visit at least once a week. Initially it was more but of late she was visiting less and less. Something, someone… was occupying her mind even when she was with him.

One night he was lying on his stomach on his bed, wide awake. Staring off through the stained glass when she came. Quietly she stretched out beside him into the bed, slipping her hand under the covers to reach his bare back. The caretaker always left him nude for bedtime. Sometimes she slept holding him to her breast but not tonight. She probably knew the _imposter _was due to drop by.

_I know you're awake._

He didn't reply. The fingers long-nailed, slowly skirted a random path down his back until they rested on the curves of his ass.

_He came so close today. _

Who did? Scott neglected to ask the automatic question as all his meagre mind strength focused to being deathly still, not that it'd matter if he asked. The palm opened and drew constant, thorough circles as if claiming ownership. Wouldn't be long before he was invaded. He didn't move, fighting the terrified urge to clench himself.

_You're mine. I will never give you up you hear me? _

Scott could sense it. How, he could not say, but he knew.

The _imposter _was scared.

One fine day… or was it night? Day most likely since the pills had just about come and gone… Scott sat at the medieval sized dining table not eating his food and staring out the stained window. The girl sat at the other end, almost ten feet away… staring at _him_. She bit into an apple, chewed slowly… unwittingly holding it against the side of her flawless jaw. And staring. He was dressed in offwhite Egyptian cotton shirt and drawstring pants, as if matched to perfection with his collar. White was her favourite color.

_Scott._

It wasn't an order. He didn't care to turn or look at her. The window was far more interesting anyway. Next thing he knew the apple was flying his way, an angry projectile headed to collide and splatter right on his face. In a flash he turned, a hand raised at the right moment intercepting the offensive fruit just before it hit him in the eye.

_What the? _

And then it struck him. He didn't know if he was more shocked at the fact that she threw a fruit at him, or at the realization that he still had some reflexes left, not to mention his own volition. He'd moved. By himself.

Scott glared at the apple, happily red in his hand, a hand that did _not _tremble as it held the fruit in a death grip. When he looked up at the caretaker, she was softly smiling.

_You couldn't have done that last week._

Focus Scott _focus_. He _could _focus! It was true, this week he'd definitely been more lucid, more aware of things that were happening around him, _to _him. He then decided to stand up. And he did! But he felt dizzy having done so in a huge rush and flopped back on his chair again.

Of course. He had been thinking clearly when he sensed the imposter's thoughts without her deliberate intent. He was getting control of his mind and body back which would be possible only if… the inhibitors stopped working? But who could…? His rapidly coming back to life brain supplied another fact he should have observed months ago. His caretaker never spoke much either.

_You're a telepath._

She nodded. He looked around him, the guards were nowhere in sight. He supposed they could talk but he didn't want to risk it. Besides he wasn't confident his vocal chords would cooperate the way his legs hadn't. Even now his head hurt.

_How long?_

She took her time.

_Four months._

He winced. Had felt like an eternity… almost relieved to know it wasn't years or something. Almost but not quite. He looked at the beautiful face of the caretaker who'd been by his side every single moment of the past four months. Four months of weakness and helplessness…

_Why?_

Why did they do this to him? Why was she being so kind of a sudden? Didn't matter, she wasn't about to answer any whys today.

_This is Magneto's castle. Shielded from detection by…_

_The Cerebro!_

Was that why they hadn't come for him yet? Hope was born, and grew just that bit more when he looked at the caretaker's softly smiling eyes again.

_What… What's your name?_

…

_Emma. Emma Frost._

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	4. Chapter 4

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Scott never got an answer to why she was helping him. But it was obvious she expected returns on his newfound vigour and mobility. Days and nights that the Phoenix did not return to the castle, Scott spent servicing every whim and fantasy of his caretaker.

_Bondage is lost on a paralytic don't you think?_

His mouth was her favourite. His lips… soft and red and full, so like a woman's. And _gawd _was he exquisitely skilled with it.

_She trained you well._

She would taunt, and Scott quietly listened.

_Means to an end. _He told himself. Anything for a chance to break free from this… this gilded cage he was held in as a prized possession instead of a human, er mutant, whatever.

_Why am I here?_

_Never read the tales of a thousand and one nights? The one with an evil king… his life inside a parrot… or was it a pigeon?_

Weakness. But whose? The caretaker's laughter echoed inside his head.

_You KNOW whose. _

Gradually strength returned to his limbs weakened from the almost vegetative state they'd been forced into for the past four months. When in company of the guards Scott would put up the pretense of listlessness and spaced out-ness… suffer their abuse as he always had. He'd perfected emotional detachment to an art form.

Once they walked in on him playing catch with Emma… two oranges, throwing them back and forth between each other, one in each direction simultaneously. The guards stopped in their tracks and squinted. Emma winked at them.

_I was bored._

According to Emma the inhibitors were weakened but she couldn't completely pull them down. Phoenix would remain oblivious to their depleting strength so long as she continued to sense her signature on her captive's mind. The actual challenge was in not thinking too loudly in the company of the _imposter_.

_She will know._

_I've had practice shielding before._

_Fool. She's the greatest telepath on this planet next only to…_

She'd said too much. Scott didn't like what he was hearing… because it quite effectively decimated his impostor theory. Maybe it was a telepath _cum _shapeshifter? Perfect. Denial works like a charm.

_What then?_

_I'll take care of it._

Two women fighting for dominance over not just his body but now his mind too… Scott didn't find it flattering in the least.

That night as Scott lay awake in his bed, Phoenix came and stretched out beside him. But she was in no mood to use him that night… instead she just lay there. Placid, breathing. Exhausted after a long day's war. Occasionally she'd reach out, caressing his shoulder-length hair but never lingering too long.

And then he heard her, in soft whispers, hum. Something slow and soft and soothing… something… achingly familiar.

_Come on baby, let's get out of this town_

_I got a full tank of gas with the top rolled down_

_There's a chill in my bones, I don't wanna be left alone_

_So baby you can sleep while I drive._

Country. Jean loved country. What was her name? Melissa…

_I'll pack my bag and load up my guitar_

_In my pocket I'll carry my harp_

_I got some money I saved, enough to get underway_

_And baby you can sleep while I drive_

…Etherige.

After she left, Scott wept. Tears that evaded him since that day… that very dark day in Alkali Lake, now flowed freely… and he let them.

_Emma… please tell me._

_I don't know okay! I'm just a caretaker, nobody tells me anything._

_Let me go then._

_You know I cant._

_If you don't, I will kill myself._

Her mental voice dripped with venom.

_I could just as easily put you back in coma you know. Don't you dare threaten me._

Scott's eyes hadn't stopped tearing since the night before. Fucking manipulative little bastard. Emma melted but not near enough.

_You just have to wait until..._

_Until what?_

She did not reply.

Phoenix was not expected that night. Scott made love to his caretaker in the hole, sorry bath tub… voluntarily of course. They did it again in bed afterwards, before Emma drifted asleep, trusting the strengthening arms of her hostage. At midnight sharp Scott got out of bed. He'd been studying the guard's moves for the past few days. Every night at 0000hrs shifts were rotated. He waited until the first left his post right outside their sleeping chambers. He grabbed the second at the stairs from behind… pressing that traitorous nerve at the back of his neck. Stuffed the faint body inside a medieval trunk for display after stealing his weapon. He held the third at gunpoint at the giant oak doors of the fortress.

_Open it._

His voice, unused for so long… wouldn't cooperate. He tried again, this time doing better even if nothing but hoarse rasps came out.

"Open it!"

The guard tried to outmaneuveur him but Scott was prepared. He shot him in his hand, not giving a damn about the commotion so caused.

"Open the damn door now or I swear I will kill you right fucking now!"

The password-activated doors slid open, he incapacitated the guard just as he had the one before and ran.

Out through the gates of hell, out of Magneto's deceptive force field. Ran as far as his legs would carry him knowing it wouldn't be enough. All the while screaming within his head.

_Professor! Professor Xavier!_

Memories rushing through his mind and eyes of a time long past… of a hesitant new relationship, of father and adopted son.

_I will always hear you Scott no matter where you are. Always, my son._

_Professor! Fa-father please… find me. I'm here. I'm still here!_

His voice got weaker, as did his legs but he kept running. His head felt heavy and before long his mind were wrenched back out of his control. By the time Emma and the first guard reached him Scott lay paralysed, his upper half flat on the ground and lower half twisted to one side. Judging from the castle's architecture and the snow-laden landscape he'd surmised he was somewhere in Europe and that bit of information too he flung out to the universe as loudly as he was capable of. The inhibitors kicked in then completely. Stronger than ever before. The guard ordered him to stand up and soon as Scott did, he punched him in the gut.

Emma never forgave him.

Scott resigned himself to his quasi-comatose fate while Emma, to vent her rage, went back to exploiting his helpless state every which way she could. Before long, molten wax from the candles that lit up the gothic insides of the fortress started to show up on myriad parts of his body… after all she couldn't leave any bruises or bite marks for the Phoenix to find. But Scott never let her have the satisfaction to hear him plead. Emma couldn't decide if she wanted to kiss him or slap him from one moment to the next. So she did both.

Two days and two nights, at least that's the closest estimate his addled up brain could come up with. And then they came.

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	5. Chapter 5

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The fortress was surrounded, stained glass shattered all over and around them. Emma escaped leaving the guards behind to die and no one in the rescue team was in any mood for clemency either. A Storm broke in… literally, and strong indomitable arms of a boy Scott once taught wrapped his naked body in bedsheets and blankets before carrying him out of the threshold of his prison of five months.

_Five months._

_Five fucking months._

_Forgive me, my son._

Scott didn't, couldn't reply. Not right then.

The Professor started his healing process soon as he reached the inside of the Blackbird and later sub-level 5 of the X-mansion. Inhibitors were peeled off and his mind gradually mended though the physical damage would take longer to repair. But the collar was another story altogether. It still wielded the power of the Dark Phoenix and despite all of Xavier's best efforts… he failed to override it.

_Phoenix. Tell me about Phoenix._

Xavier was reluctant, Scott could sense as much.

Life had moved on. The Democrats were back in power. A new world order was in place, and yet another new one was being attempted to be established by Magneto and his growing confederation of supporters. What was he trying to do?… the X-Men barely knew. But Storm said it had something to do with the Sentinels.

_Sentinels?_

A secret government project that was partially developed as part of Stryker's offensive program against mutants but like Stryker's all operations, was cancelled right after Alkali Lake – all the robots dismantled and recycled. Magneto had been working to revive and control the damn things for the past five months.

_What's Phoenix got to do with it?_

Xavier sighed, almost painfully.

_Just like the Cerebro, Sentinels need a powerful telepathic mind to activate them. And Phoenix is… _

Scott swallowed, he had heard this before.

…_the greatest telepath on this planet next only… to you._

Xavier looked away.

_Perhaps greater than me._

_How did he bring her back? How could he when you couldn't?_

_I'm not quite convinced it was him._

The X-Men as usual, were doing their best. Only they were quickly ramping up and deploying _kids _on the field, what with three of their best either out of action… or not on their side anymore. Cyclops. Jean Grey. And Wolverine.

_So he left?_

Big surprise that one.

_He went after her… ever since she… dear God Scott, we thought you were dead! _

The Professor finally allowed himself the relief of tears. Scott forgave him.

He wasn't about to forgive Wolverine however.

_Forgive him for what? _

For going after Jean? Again? For not… not coming for?… _Damnit._

He requested another couple of aspirins for his headache.

By next morning Scott had gathered enough strength as well as courage to come out of his hiding hole and face the rest of the school. He donned the standard dark grey sweats of the X-Men, zipping the collar right up to his chin so no one would see his humiliation wrapped around his neck. Then made up to the first floor where some of the seniors (more somber and more… grown up than he remembered them to be) were gathered around the TV set. He stood against the back wall so quiet the kids never knew he was there.

_Seven states of The US of A including New York and California suffered massive power blackouts following last night's attack on the Northern thermal power station… once again by giant robots… what we now know are called Sentinels…_

Bobby couldn't stay quiet anymore.

"Man Magneto finally cracked the Sentinel code and we're just sitting on our hands doin' nothing to stop him!"

The outrage was a shared sentiment in the room.

"The only way to stop the Sentinels is to stop the telepath who controls them." Kitty added.

"And now that Cyclops is back he would never…"

Pietro raised a hand to quiet the boy with spiked hair, a boy Scott didn't recognize. The newswoman droned on as everyone turned to look at what'd caught Pietro's attention.

"Scott!"

Marie at least was happy to see him. No that's not true. Of course everyone was, Scott chided himself. And they were surprised to see his unshielded eyes… a rare sight indeed. But they were also worried.

Worried now that he was back, the conflict they all faced would grow and ultimately be decided not in the X-Men's favour. Scott knew now was the time to say something. Painfully… in ways more than one, he cleared his throat.

"Colossus. Right?"

He smiled at the huge guy who was clearly the leader of the pack. Pietro respectfully smiled back.

"Dude you grow six inches taller every time I see you"

Everyone softly laughed. The ice broke. Scott swallowed, dug his hands in his pockets and came to the center of the room. He bit his lip, not knowing how to start.

"Mr. Summers, I was just…"

Scott waived the unnecessary explanation away.

"I understand. Really. But there's one thing you guys need to know."

Everyone waited.

"That telepath… with Magneto… she… is not Doctor Jean Grey. I don't know who she is, but I know she… is NOT. Her."

"…"

"At least… not anymore."

The kids looked at each other, not sure how to respond.

"Trust me. But even if she was… we are still the X-Men. And we will still do what we're supposed to do. There will be no more arguments about this. That's an order."

"…"

"…"

"Uh… I'm still second-in-command round here right?"

It was only half a joke but they all smiled and nodded anyway.

"Yes you are, Cyclops."

Scott turned to see Storm and Professor had come in by then, probably having heard his entire speech. Xavier's eyes brimming with empathy for the thousand deaths he just died inside. As did the eyes of two of Scott's oldest friends who came in right behind. Warren Worthington, Dr. Hank McCoy.

_I am proud of you, my son._

Scott could not reply, and quietly removed himself from the room. Only to be followed by the man with the wings of an angel.

"Summers…"

No further words were exchanged, Angel knew exactly what his dearest friend of ten years was going through. Silently they embraced. Gripping each other tight… in preparation for the toughest battle of their lives.

Barely an hour later, the war began.

_Breaking News… attack on the United Nations headquarters right as we speak… _

…_site for the international convention where the cure for the mutant gene is about to be unveiled for the rest of the world…_

The Professor insisted he sit this one out. Scott… to everyone's shock and suspicion… agreed. But they were also relieved, after all the man was still in love. Seeing her… Phoenix standing against him… against everything Jean once believed in and fought for to her demise… would probably be too much. Besides he was still too weak to fight. Angel squeezed his shoulder.

"You gonna be okay?"

Scott nodded.

"Hang in there buddy, I have a feeling this will all be over before night in through."

He watched as the X-Men flew off in his jet, on the most relevant mission of their lives… without him. Softly, detachedly… he hummed to himself.

_If you wont take me with you, I'll go before night is through._

_And baby you can sleep while I drive…_

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	6. Chapter 6

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Emma Frost was not having a very good day. First she loses her hostage, which effectively ruins her comfortable post in France where all she had to do was babysit the Dark Phoenix's old flame, whom she got to fuck as well. Now she was here in the middle of a fucking battleground with the damn Sentinels loose everywhere crushing people indiscriminately. After all who was to say they wouldn't assume she was the enemy too… they hadn't been formally introduced now had they?

And now she knew. Damn it Phoenix knew everything and she was so fucking angry. If she wasn't kinda busy and if it weren't for Magneto, Emma would have been dead by now.

"Sebastian. Sebastian!"

"What?"

Sebastian Shaw was another mutant allied with the Brotherhood and was busy controlling an activated Sentinel with a remote control.

"Where is your truck?"

"For God's sake Emma for once in your life prove your commitment to something! Anything!"

"Fine. Give me your car keys I promise to take very good care of it. Far away from here!"

Sebastian just rolled his eyes as she telepathically ported the keys to his Hummer off him and got out of firing range as fast as possible. She was going to make it… just a hundred meters more… fifty… twenty… five…

"Leaving so soon?"

Emma froze, turning to face the one person she knew her telepathic powers would have no effect on.

Professor Xavier slowly rolled in closer, Rogue right behind him. The unmasked fury on his face evidence enough that he knew everything about her role in this entire saga.

"Listen… Professor. I just, did what I was asked to… no hard feelings eh?"

Xavier was not particularly a vindictive man, but he could pretend to be.

"I see you're keenly aware of who I am Miss Frost so lets just cut through the chase shall we?"

Emma swallowed as Xavier politely smiled at her, as if about to invite her to tea.

"So how does this telepathic activation of Sentinels work?"

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Logan was exhausted. Yeah people always assumed that wasn't possible for him. Well maybe it wasn't, physically. But inside his head… he was just plain… tired.

Five months. Five fucking months.

And to what end? Let them take the fucking UN, what good did they do for anyone anyway? Let the Sentinels tear the place apart piece by piece… wreck the international convention on the stupid cure for mutation. Its not like he was pro that particular agenda in any case. And no he wasn't part of the X-Men anymore either was he. Not technically, no. Then what the _fuck _was he doing here?

_You're here for her._

He reminded himself. She was the reason, she was the chase all this time… and now that she was almost within his grasp… Sabretooth stood in the way.

Yeah, _him _again.

Logan wondered why the bad guys never stayed dead while all the good ones just kept dying… leaving him behind. Old, bruised, battered… and so very tired.

The X-Men were already at the scene… Rogue and Bobby and Colossus and Storm… a couple of other kids he wasn't sure were old enough for this, and two older and obviously adept mutant warriors he'd never met before. Trusting them to hold fort a little while longer, he let his present adversary goad him on. Sabretooth was clearly in the mood to play, never was one for clean executions. Logan suffered the abuse, the pain… perhaps even welcomed it.

_You deserve it._

Got his own every now and then of course. But if only Logan weren't so exhausted…

"Wolverine!"

That voice… weak and raspy… but he'd recognize it anywhere. Face down in the mud, his sides torn to shreds as Sabretooth lunged at him again, Logan rolled out of reach and turned toward the source of that desperate… furious call. For a whole two seconds, he just sat there… stunned.

The color blue… had never seemed so beautiful to him ever before in his entire life. Didn't matter he couldn't remember most of it. There was no way… no fucking way could he've seen such… blue eyes before.

"Quit jerkin' around and finish that piece of shit already!"

Sabretooth didn't last too long after that. And this time he made sure the bad guy stayed dead. Logan was in no hurry to get to her anymore either.

_She _was taken.

It was a blood-curdling scream. Like the last scream of a primitive being burning itself to a horribly painful death. But the Dark Phoenix was not about to give in so easy. So what if all her power had just been wrenched out of her control in one mind-numbing telepathic attack. She knew exactly who she needed to annihilate to get it all back.

Charles Xavier.

The Sentinels were falling to the ground all around her, months of preparation… time and energy… and blood and tears wasted. She'd waited far too long for this day… taken far too many lives to reach this point… she couldn't turn back now. Someone was about to suffer… a lot. And no one could stand in her way. Not the persistent weather witch… not the winged man who looked disturbingly familiar… not the beast with the sad yellow eyes reluctant to draw first blood. No one.

Except him.

"Jean."

Something inside her stirred, but she suppressed it quick. When she turned, her eyes glowed and her lips smirked.

_Love makes you incredibly stupid doesn't it?_

He said nothing. His mind closely guarded… though undercurrents of pain and yes… love… she could still sense from her former captive. The former captive… who still wore her mark of possession… her collar. She raised an open palm and pulled him closer to herself, half suspended in the air like a slender ragdoll. And she smiled.

_You just handed me the perfect bargaining chip sweetheart. Your life…_

She turned to glare at the Professor sprawled on the ground beside his broken wheelchair.

… _for his._

"No! Let him go!"

Scott did not turn to look, but he recognized Wolverine's panic-stricken voice as he charged towards Phoenix. She casually flicked her other hand and Logan was flung forty feet away. Scott pretended to be just as casual.

"You could never kill me."

Eyebrows went up.

"You love me too much. Just like I love you Jean. I always have and I always will."

Glowing eyes softened… if only for a moment, then it was gone.

"Liar. You betrayed me. For him!"

It was obvious who she was referring to. And then he was thrown to the ground with a massive force that shattered a couple of his ribs.

"If you hate me so much, why didn't you kill me before? Why keep me alive?"

She laughed. The menace creeping down his spine and he shivered.

"Why of course, to punish… _him_."

She was looking at the Professor.

Xavier winced his eyes shut… his worst fears confirmed. Scott gasped with pain and confusion.

"Wha… what are you talking about?"

"My poor mortal boy. To hurt you… is to hurt your loving meddling goddamn father! So you'd both know what its like to be trapped inside your own fucking head… like he trapped me inside mine!"

"… no… Jean…"

"Fool! I am not the woman you thought you knew! I am Phoenix. I am immortal… I am indestructible! Ask this man who just _loves _to play God and you cant help but worship! Ask your _father _what he did to me."

Scott looked at Xavier, who shook his head, perhaps in remorse.

"…Professor?…"

"…"

"I have always been here… I am the part of Jean Grey this man imprisoned in his cage of psyionic walls… inside her own warped mind. He turned me into the automated fucking Stepford wife that your Jean Grey was! The good girl… the scared little girl who couldn't believe in her own cosmic strengths! Tied down by your filthy _human _bonds of morality that mean nothing to me! Nothing!"

Scott shook his head, over and over.

"But… Jean…"

"Jean is DEAD! She died for you and how did you repay her? You promptly jumped into bed with someone else!"

_No… no it was not like that_… but he couldn't utter a word. A breathless sob escaped him… and the telepath suddenly stopped glowing in her all-consuming fury. Calmness descended like it had the day of his abduction at Alkali Lake. The battleground was quiet… the X-Men stood tall and watched as the Brotherhood fled. Only Magneto and Mystique remained… like everyone else immobile, stunned in the face of the new revelations.

"If she was here… she'd be very happy for you, you know…"

The admission quiet, and austere. Then invisible bonds gripped him by his sides and lifted him into the air again… right in her face.

"But she's NOT."

Moments of silence, one… maybe two. The smirk returned.

This time on Scott's face.

"See… that's where you're wrong."

Phoenix frowned.

"She's right here… she's the reason I'm still alive…"

The Phoenix glowed anew. Unseen hands started to constrict his throat. Scott gasped.

"She's the reason you kept me by your side… away from this pointless war… she's why you kept coming back… held me in your arms… sang to me when I couldn't sleep. I know you're here Jean… I know you're alive."

The strangling lessened. A shadow lifted from the face of the Phoenix.

"Scott…"

Scott could have wept. He'd recognize the moisture in that voice any day. The telepath gently returned him to solid ground.

"Jean come back to us…"

Sobs hitched in her throat, as he watched her struggling inside.

"…I cant hold on any longer… she's too strong…"

His eyes watered and he shook his head pleading.

"No… you have to. You have to, please Jean!"

"I am sorry…"

Scott knew what was about to happen.

"No! No please No!"

_There has to be another way! Please, not again!_

He winced his eyes shut tight and whirled around just as he heard the clicking of the collar round his neck.

_Please… not like this!… not like this…_

The jewelled circle fell to the ground with a soft clang, and against his will Cyclops turned… his lethal eyes opened…

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	7. Chapter 7

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Warren returned to the team alongwith Henry soon after. And with Storm as interim field leader, the rest of the X-Men seemed to be recovering well.

Magneto hadn't surfaced ever since… and Emma seemed to have disappeared off the face of the planet as well.

_She seems to have perfected the art of deceptive shielding all by herself._

And didn't he know it.

Scott refused to talk to the Professor about the four months that he was gone. He knew Xavier wouldn't push but Logan's complete lack of tact continued to amaze him to the point where he pretty much spilled it all to his former arch nemesis.

"Want me to skewer that skank for ya kid?"

Scott rolled his eyes.

_Just don't mention bathtubs to me ever again. _

Scott fell back into his old habit of fending off sleep for as long as possible. So that at the end of the week when he did crash it would be like a dead man in his grave. The definition of 'zombie' was elevated to brand new heights during this time. And only the larger bulk and height of Logan succeeded in cajoling him into basic tasks like brushing his teeth or putting on clean clothes. He wasn't interested in anything anymore… it was as if he was waiting an eternal wait… for the voices in his head to start talking again. But they never did. Jean Grey had truly left a void in his soul this time.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months.

It occurred to him Logan had left his side not once ever since. He was the one who carried Scott's unconscious form to the Blackbird after the Phoenix destroyed herself. Nothing but ashes remained though not for long. A perfectly timed gust of wind had carried them far, far away.

_I am immortal, I am indestructible._

Scott tried not to think about her anymore. He tried, really tried to get on with his life.

_If she was here… she'd be very happy for you._

Even as it turned out to be the toughest thing he'd ever done. But somehow made easier, by the immensely irritating yet oddly comforting presence of Logan, always by his side.

_Just leave me alone._

"I cant hear you."

_Yes you can._

"Chuck you gotta take away his telepathic privileges, the boy simply never uses his voice box anymore."

_He cant hear you._

"Yes he can. Now shut up and eat or I will sit on your chest and forcefeed you. And don't think I wouldn't."

_I didn't say anything._

"Oh for Gods sake…"

_Okay! Okay…_

Scott ate. Not because he was scared of the big louse, but because of late this new… gentle, caring side to the fearsome Wolverine had become way too amusing to ignore.

Charles worried how alarmingly his grieving son seemed to be losing weight… and his will to resume a normal life. He pleaded with him to sleep, promising him there would be no dreams or nightmares to worry about. But Scott had had enough mind control games to last him three lifetimes.

_Stay out of my head, Professor._

_I'm only trying to help you my son._

Like you helped Jean? He didn't say it or project it… jeez he probably didn't even mean it. But he was sure Charles heard it all the same.

And then came the nightmare Charles was not allowed to safeguard him from.

Scott woke up screaming, only to find himself wrapped in the arms of his stalker once again.

"Shhh… its okay… just a bad dream."

"Logan?"

Scott squinted his eyes open through his night glasses and confirmed it _was _his room this time. The new one he'd requested soon after returning to the mansion.

_God he really cant stop meddling can he?_

Scott supposed Charles had posted Logan in his room since Charles was himself kicked out of his head. Logan didn't bother to tell he'd been watching over Scott every single time he'd surrendered to Morpheus, which hadn't been so often in any case.

"Don't be a dick. Chuck's wanted nothing but to protect you and all his students. Jean too… even when it was from herself"

Scott knew he was right, but didn't intend to give in so easy. He shrugged Logan off and glared through his glasses.

_Get out of my room._

If Logan was hurt he didn't let it show. Instead he cautiously raised a hand and cupped the younger man's face, thumb gently stroking a quivering lower lip.

"_Ask _me. Out loud. And nicely."  
Scott wanted to pull away from the large furry hand… no wait… actually, he didn't.

_Get out. Please._

Eyebrows were raised menacingly. Scott glared back as long as he could, then looked away.

_I cant._

"Why not…"

The answer took its time.

_I'm afraid if I opened my mouth… I'll never stop bawling._

"…"

"…"

_Trust me. I know a damn good way to shut you up._

Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. Man that sounds so clichéd. Ever since he was a kid, Scott had been a math freak… to him numbers were always logical, numbers you could always trust to make perfect and irrefutable sense. He wondered when or if he'd ever stop counting the days and nights since… since Jean died. Again. But it didn't matter anymore.

Two days later, Scott stepped out of his room for the first time in three months. Six days later he and Xavier spent hours talking, and not via brainwaves. Nine days later he started working out again. On the twenty sixth day, he opened up his old room… gathered all of Jean's favourite country albums, and brought them over with him to Logan's bedroom.

(END)


End file.
